


Missy's Girl

by slytherinspellman



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28944021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinspellman/pseuds/slytherinspellman
Summary: You are Missy's girl, she has methods of making sure you don't forget.
Relationships: Missy (Doctor Who)/Reader, Missy (Doctor Who)/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Missy's Girl

**Author's Note:**

> First thing I've written in literal years so it probably sucks, sorry ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“We can’t, Missy, not here.” You gasp, breath hitching even as you try your best to sound commanding.

The time lady growls against you as she snakes her hand under your dress, and you feel your body warming at her touch, despite your protests.

“Yes, _here_.” She hisses, her nails raking up the inside of your thigh. “Hands behind your head.”

There’s a flash of something dangerous in her eyes, and you know better than to argue. Not that you want to, not really. You raise your hands and settle them on the back of your head obediently. Missy smiles then, red lips peeling back to reveal glistening teeth.

“Now, I’m very cross with you, so I suggest you keep them there, unless you want to make me absolutely _livid_.”

You blink, teeth biting down on your bottom lip in anticipation of what’s to come as you rack your brain for any possible reason that she would be angry with you - angry enough to act on it with very little regard for where you are. It’s not often that you find yourself pressed up against a wall the moment you leave the console room.

Missy tugs at the jacket that’s draped over your dress, pulling you back to reality, and it suddenly makes sense. It’s the Doctor’s Jacket- he had wrapped it around your shoulders earlier that day when you’d complained of being _absolutely freezing- probably to death_ on the trip back to the TARDIS. You huff out a breath, and Missy’s eyes snap up to meet yours instantaneously. Your heart hammers at the sight of her, brow arched in a silent question.

“Is that what this is about?” you ask. “Seriously?”

“What’s that then, Poppet?” Her hand moves further up your thigh and you let out a soft mewling sound as your muscles dance under her touch.

“The coat.” You murmur.

“Oh, you mean you and the Doctor? A nasty little shock to the system.”

You scoff at the insinuation, and the Time Lady's eyes darken considerably.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Missy! He’s my _friend_!”

“ _I’m_ your friend.” She counters, a smirk ghosting her lips as her fingers finally reach your slick heat, and she pushes into you without warning. You whimper at the sudden intrusion, along with the realisation that the Doctor could catch you at any moment.

“Who is it you belong to, Pet?” she asks, fingers curling inside of you.

“You.” You gasp, rocking against her hand. “I’m yours.”

“Good girl.” She purrs, and you feel yourself clench around her at the praise. “And who gets to touch you like this?” she asks, the heel of her hand brushing against your clit in such a way you feel like your whole body is on fire.

“You.”

“Not the Doctor?”

“No! You, Missy, _only you_.” You breathe. Mind clouded by your building pleasure, you spread your legs to take her deeper. “ _Please_.”

You breathe an indignant whine as she removes her fingers from your heat, thrusting them into your mouth with a vicious grin plastered on her face as you try not to choke on them.

“You’ll do well to remember that, Pet.” She warns, fingers sliding from your mouth to grasp your wrist. “Forget the coat, I’ve got the perfect thing for you to wear.”


End file.
